


Stars

by Padfoots_Pawprint



Series: Julance 2019 [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, JuLance, Kisses, M/M, Words Unsaid, adoration, technically a julance prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-28 22:42:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20433668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Padfoots_Pawprint/pseuds/Padfoots_Pawprint
Summary: Keith has spent years gazing at the stars, and he knows he's fallen in love with one as he watches Lance on the balcony at their victory party.





	Stars

He glitters beneath the glow of a billion stars winking in and out of existence. While the party rages on at his back, colours spilling out the window and slipping over his shirt, Lance is outside and watching as the bright blues and whites of this system phase across the sky.

And Keith? Keith is watching Lance, all brown and beautiful with bronze skin and broad shoulders, like he is the most beautiful thing in this galaxy. More beautiful than the celestial bodies in the sky, more beautiful than the perfect floating crystals in the dance hall, more beautiful than any creature they've ever seen out in the vast expanse of space.

Lance always pretends that he knows his own self-worth, but he doesn't, and it is an absolute _shame_ because Lance is a gift to this world, even if Keith would never tell him in public. Less because Lance's ego doesn't need boosting but because he's made it quite clear that Keith's compliments need to stay between the pair of them. If the others hear, they're ‘forced’ to sit through the PDA they complain so loudly about.

Keith, on his part, can never find it in himself to complain at all when his mouth is usually occupied. Kissing Lance is a fabulous pastime, something he's blessed enough to engage in on the regular.

For now, Keith's content to gaze upon the Blue Paladin in a space that feels ridiculously private. He can probably stare at Lance forever, cataloging features, thinking of all the ways a single boy can bring him so much rage and joy. He used to do it more covertly when he was younger and wild, _sure_ that Lance wanted nothing from him but conflict. He used to steal as many moments as possible thinking of ways to impress him, to cool the jealousy he felt towards Lance's easy camaraderie with the others, with how genial he was with strangers, of how Lance would pull everyone else in yet push him away. 

A cry of celebration comes from within the dance hall where newly liberated aliens cheer for their freedom, for Voltron's victory, and Keith should probably be in there with the rest of them, cheering or eating or keeping a lookout. Keith recalls that just before he left, Hunk and Pidge were trying to dissect a moving fruit tart at the buffet table, and Shiro had been in deep conversation with an alien who apparently specialized in massages. Coran and Allura were enjoying the tales of a young prince whose father would cut in every so often to gently correct the tale. He should be in there, he thinks, but he wants to be here instead. He doesn't want to be thinking about making pleasantries and maintaining vigilance.

No, Keith wants to think about is how Lance would make a perfect constellation. He thinks of Orion and Andromeda, thinks of the classes they'd had a lifetime ago at the Garrison about catasterism, and knows that it wouldn't even be hard to paint Lance as the hero he is. He knows he'd be able to pick out a Lance shaped constellation no matter where in a system he was, Keith thinks idly.

Although _he_ does not move at the noise, it does draw Lance's attention, his pointed chin turning in towards the sound and away from the new array of stars in this system. He notices Keith standing there, and their eyes meet in a moment that is too short and too long all at once. Surprise colours Lance's features, the fireworks going off behind him colouring his gala outfit, silhouetting him in an array of brilliant light.

It's so perfectly timed, made all the more stunning when Lance’s expression eases into something more affectionate and excited.

"Samurai." It's simultaneously a greeting and a request that Keith hears. A call, a summoning, a demand that Keith is only too eager to oblige.

"Sharpshooter." Keith answers and drifts closer to join him at the edge of the balcony in compliance, slipping into Lance's orbit easily. He's eager to be drawn in, is longing for it all the time, and his heart jumps happily as they come together as if it's something they've been doing forever instead of just for a year. He fits into the spot like it was carved just for him, tailored to his proportions and weight.

_Pull me in_, he thinks, and Lance smiles and slides their palms together, fingers knitting together pleasantly against the slight chill of this planet's atmosphere. Keith is pleased to report that they don't need words sometimes to convey the desire to be close anymore. Lance tugs just enough for their knees to brush, close enough for him to lean over and kiss him, close enough that Keith's free hand finds easy purchase in the fabric at Lance's hip and _pulls_.

He shuts his eyes while Lance, obliging and pliant, returns the kiss with an easy hum. It lasts a few sweet moments before he ruins it, as he always does, by speaking. "Slow down there, Samurai," chuckles Lance against Keith's mouth. "We're still in public."

"Public?" He echoes innocently. "I don't see anyone."

Keith's eyes are still closed from his time kissing Lance and he keeps them shut, relishing in the sound of Lance's happy laughter. When the others aren't around, it's easy to be carefree and playful. Dating a guy like Lance does that to a person.

"You're testing me, man." Lance squeezes at their hands. "Really testing me. No one gave you permission to be this cute, my _god_."

Keith lets himself scoff at that. "I don't need permission from anyone."

He sounds like a petulant child to his own ears, but it has the desired effect. Lance is charmed, and he laughs softly against Keith’s skin. "You never need permission," murmurs Lance, his mouth coming back to Keith's again. "Of course you don't. Keith _fucking_ Kogane everybody."

The words should be angry and spiteful and are reminiscent of a time where that is all Keith could glean from them, but these words are anything but when said like _that_. These words have a reverence to them, and they're so thickly saturated with love that Keith finds himself giving in easily to the request there too. He loses himself in those unspoken words. After all, they’re the same unspoken words that he's making too with the greediness of his hands and the delicate tilt of his chin. _Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me_.

_I love you. Kiss me._

He does.


End file.
